


Acute

by Fyre



Category: Castle
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-16
Updated: 2010-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-13 17:08:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long-lunch in France, Alexis is reunited with her father</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acute

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HopefulNebula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopefulNebula/gifts).



> A semi-companion character piece to [Triangle](http://archiveofourown.org/works/139288) and [Obtuse](http://archiveofourown.org/works/139577).

“Dad!” Alexis raced through the crowds at the arrivals hall and straight to her father, flinging her arms around his neck and holding on as if she might be stolen away to France for lunch again.

Her father hugged her tightly. “You okay, sweetie?”

“Don’t ever let me go to lunch again,” she implored, leaning back to look at him.

He held her firmly against his side as her mother walked over in her way too high heels and way too short dress.

“Richard!”

“Meredith.” Alexis peeked up at her father. He was smiling his ‘I am not happy, but I won’t show it in front of my baby’ smile. She’d seen it enough times when he was talking to her mother to know it well. “As I recall, I said you could take her to lunch, not to France.”

“It was the best lunch in the world,” her mother replied, smiling. “After all, you only get the very best in France, right, sweetie? And if we hadn’t gone to France, we could never have visited half the shops we went to.”

Alexis squeaked as her father held her more tightly. “No more overseas lunches, Meredith,” he said. He sounded calm, but he was holding onto Alexis tight enough for her to know he was really, really mad.

Her mother rolled her eyes. “You are such a spoilsport,” she said, setting down her array of shopping bags. She held out her arms to Alexis. “Sweetheart, I have to run. My connection is in four hours, so I have time to run to Bloomingdales.”

Alexis was reluctantly released, and hugged her mother. “It was a good lunch,” she said with a small smile.

“We’ll do it in the city next time,” her mother promised, kissing her on both cheeks.

Alexis nodded, retreating back to her father’s side. He crouched down and let her clamber onto his back, her arms around his neck. “Let’s go home,” she whispered.

He didn’t have the car with him, so they got a cab, and as soon as they were in, he put an arm around her, tucking her closer to him. She put her backpack at her feet and snuggled closer to him, her head on his shoulder. “How was it?” he asked quietly. “Really?”

“She didn’t let me go to the Louvre,” Alexis replied with a huge sigh. “It was right there, and she didn’t even notice!”

Her father kissed the top of her head. “We’ll go to France some time, and we’ll spend an afternoon there,” he promised. He tickled her side and she squealed. “Did you have frogs legs or snails or anything like that?”

“Dad!” she protested, giggling. “That’s gross!”

“Sweetie,” he said solemnly, “never ask me what they put in hotdogs.”

She poked his belly. “We had good stuff,” she said. “Mom let me try pate. I don’t think I like it.”

“It’s kind of like grown-up meat jelly, isn’t it?” he agreed. “Not my favourite.”

“But the cakes were so good!” She sat up suddenly. “I had a huge slice with sticky creamy stuff and chocolate and layers of cake-stuff! It had a cherry on top, and it was the best cake I ever, ever had. I even brought some home!”

“Best cake ever, huh?” Her father considered it. “I think I may need to investigate this further. Can’t have you hogging all the best cakes in the world now, can I?”

“You might not like it,” Alexis said at once. “You shouldn’t try it, just in case. I’ll eat it so you don’t have to.”

He looked down at her. “Hold on, missy,” he said sternly. “I see what you’re up to. You’re trying to keep the best cake in the world all for you.”

She widened her eyes. “I didn’t say best! It’s bad cake! Gross and froggy and snaily! You don’t wanna try any!”

“Bad best cake you ever, ever had?” he teased, tickling her again. “For that, I think I’ll eat it all right in front of you.”

“Dad!” she wailed, pummelling his leg.

“All right, all right,” he said with a great sigh. “I guess that you can share it with me, since I didn’t get to go all the way to Paris with you.” He nudged her gently. “Will you share a cake with a hungry old man?”

“You’re not old, dad,” Alexis said happily.

“I don’t know, sweetie,” he replied. “Getting a call from your mom to say you’d be late for dinner because you were in France nearly made my hair go grey.”

She giggled. “You’re making that up!”

“Maybe I dyed all my hair,” he said, his expression serious.

Alexis knelt up and tugged on his hair, examining it. “It’s the same colour as it was yesterday,” she replied. “You’re making it up.”

He laughed, hoisting her into his lap. “You’re too smart for me, sweetie,” he said. “I don’t know where you get all these smarts. Maybe you steal them off the weaker kids at recess along with their candy.”

“Dad!”

“What? You only steal the candy?”

She socked him on the arm. “I don’t steal anything! Stealing is bad!”

“Depends on what you’re stealing,” he said, eyes dancing.

She socked him again for good measure. “No, dad,” she said sternly. “Stealing is bad. People have to make a living.”

He laughed. “I guess I was wrong about me being an old man,” he said. “You are totally a little old lady. I bet if you had a little purse, you would hit me with it too.”

“Dad!” She was laughing too. “I’m not an old lady!”

“All doddery and shouting ‘you won’t have my cake, young man’,” he said in a croaky, old voice. “Chasing me with your walking stick and yelling ‘get off of my lawn, you young scallywag’!”

“What’s a scallywag?” Alexis asked, giggling.

He leaned closer and whispered, “You really want to know?”

She nodded, wide-eyed.

“Really, truly?”

“Yes!” she whispered back eagerly.

He pointed a finger. “Look in that little rectangle right there, with the pine tree hanging from it, and you’ll see what a scallywag is.”

Alexis looked straight at her own reflection in the driver’s mirror. “Dad!”

He laughed and hugged her close.


End file.
